Be Careful What You Wish For

A couple of years ago while I was still employed at CMRLS, I was going through an annual review with my supervisor. We were discussing the typical kind of things: What had I accomplished? What goals was I not able to complete and why? What did I plan to do during the next fiscal year? Another question asked: What did I like least about my job? My answer? I wish I had a chance to do more cataloging. I missed it. When I was hired by CMRLS, the organization was specifically looking for a cataloger. There were a few different collections of books that were loaned to member libraries, but a couple of years after I started, it was decided to focus the limited resources on services rather than books. The professional collection, the books on all aspects of Library Science, remained, but cataloging them amounted to a few hours every month or so. Now, with my various jobs, I catalog all day, every day. I use a variety of Integrated Library Systems, but I look at bibliographic records and MARC codes all the time. At Springfield City Library I catalog games, toys and puzzles for the Early Childhood Resource Collection. I catalog DVDs and CDs for the main library and its branches. Through Donohue Group, Inc., I'm working on a major retrospective conversion project for the Boston Public Library using their old catalog cards, as well as a small private collection of books focusing on philosphy, spirituality, literature, and related topics. I also spend a day or so each month at a small engineering college. And then there's LIS 415. While I'm not actually cataloging, I'm spending much time thinking and talking about cataloging and all of its various components. I should be happy, right? Isn't this what I wanted? Like the various and sundry jokes that use "Be careful what you wish for" as the punchline, I should have been more specific. Instead of old catalog cards, instead of books on archane and esoteric topics, instead of unfamiliar foreign languages, instead of DVDs and other media that are difficult (at best) to figure out, I had envisioned pretty, new, simple, current, easy materials. I had been away from cataloging just long enough that I was remembering only the ideal and not the reality. Another wish I have is to remain mentally alert for many, many years. With all of the intellectual exercise I get cataloging various and sundry items, I doubt I'll have to worry about loss of mental acuity for a long time. So I guess I'll stop complaining and appreciate the positive aspects of obscure foreign languages.